No, I am not going to talk about my aches and pains (although, to be honest, those stories are brimming with fast-paced adventure and compelling personal drama). Instead, I want to talk about cosmic aging.

Usually, when you hear someone utter the phrase “gettin’ old,” it is used in connection with an inability to remember, or a difficulty in getting up off the couch, or in coping with the latest technology. It is a reluctant admission that Father Time has finally caught up with the geezer in question. That is silly, of course. Father Time has been neck and neck with us from the beginning.

We all get stronger and bigger and smarter as we grow old, of course. It might even be said that we reach our peak in the late 20s or early 30s or (if you stay in shape) your 40s. But when it comes to gettin’ old, we’re doing that from day one. Some would put that day as the date of birth; others would point to the moment of conception. Both of those are certainly significant events on the timelines of our lives, but if we step back and take a wider view, aren’t they merely points along a much longer continuum?

Think of it. The particular sperm and egg that joined at our conception represent, between them, the totality of our being. There is only one way they could have joined, and the result could only have been us. Both of them were living things before that moment, so why can’t we add the spans of their individual existences to ours? The sperm might have come into being the very morning of conception, but the egg had been around (in the sense we are talking about) since our mothers’ conception. Using the same kind of analysis, our identity can be tracked back to her mother. And so on.

That’s what I mean by cosmic aging. We have been “alive” all the way back to the beginning of life on Earth. Which means we have all been gettin’ old for roughly 3.5 billion years. And if you believe, as some think, that our original amino acids were splashed here when an asteroid hit Mars, we are even older. In fact, once we get going on this line of thinking, we can reasonably trace our “births” back to the Big Bang itself — 13.8 billion years ago.

If you buy into the latest thinking among theoretical physicists, time will come to an end in just 5 billion years. At the heart of that projection, however, is the idea that our universe is constantly creating other universes through its black holes (adding more multiverses to an already infinite number of such entities), and that those cosmoses will have lives of their own that are billions of years long. Our universe, in turn, was created by an “earlier” universe where time has since stopped. That linkage extends both forward and backward without end.

My conclusion: we are immortal. We have always been around, and we always will be. Ergo, we are not gettin’ old. Never have, never will. That said, I can report that (from where I sit on the continuum) we’re not gettin’ any younger, either.

Well, do they? We may need to answer that question soon. Article III, Section 3 of the Constitution defines treason as “levying war” against the U.S. or “adhering to” or giving “Aid and Comfort” to our “Enemies.” Up until recently I would have said that only Isis or its like would qualify as enemies of the United States. The Russians, by contrast, have seemed more like adversaries or competitors.

Recent indictments from the Mueller investigation, however, have detailed a large-scale, comprehensive attack on our system of government (us, in other words) by the Russians. It is not hard to argue that only an enemy would launch such an attack. There have been no official declarations of war, but the Constitution doesn’t mention such formalities in its discussion of treason. I am beginning to think we might be there after all.

Death has always been the go-to punishment for treason, of course. Fines and imprisonment are also options, but execution (if it is ever appropriate) seems a good match to this particular crime. Oddly, however, no one has ever been executed under U.S. law for treason. Julius and Ethel Rosenberg were put to death for “conspiracy to commit espionage,” not treason. That case, it should be noted, was decided in 1953. America was in full paranoia mode over The Red Menace at the time, and most agree that our legal system was not at its best during that trial.

The last American sentenced to death for treason was Tomoya Kawakita, whose conviction rested on his activities as a guard in a Japanese concentration camp. His sentence was later commuted by President Eisenhower. No one from the Confederacy paid the ultimate price for their offenses against our country. There were executions for war crimes and murder, but not for treason. Benedict Arnold never faced the consequences for his treachery, either, and died a quiet death in rural England. From complications of dropsy, if you must know.

So there is no real precedent here. If Donald Trump (to pick a name out of the air) were to be convicted of treason and sentenced to death, wouldn’t hanging be the first option that enters your mind? It seems like a means of execution especially made for traitors.

But let’s not be hasty. Drawing and quartering is is also on the menu, but I am not prepared to argue for its return to fashion. There’s no need to be cruel here. Justice should be our main concern — along with establishing a deterrent to the willful destruction of our society. If our state is going to kill someone, our method of choice should reflect our highest values as a people.

I’m not sure where the Mueller investigation will go, but we can certainly imagine ending up with a long list of traitors to deal with. The President, Don Jr., Jared, half the Cabinet, Mike Pence — they could all be implicated. That’s a lot of rope. The Rosenbergs died in the electric chair, so there’s is some precedent for that method. It’s not old school, though, and it doesn’t seem to match the unique nature of the crime. The same goes for any of those drug “cocktails” they’re experimenting with in the modern dens of horror we call prisons.

We’ll need something quick, humane, cost-effective, and earth-friendly for this job, but the method also must speak to the long tradition of punishment for betrayal of one’s country. Allow me to humbly suggest, then, this modest proposal: let’s dust off the guillotine — just in case. It has a history rich with symbolism, and it seems particularly fitting under the current set of facts. That’s if there are convictions, of course. We must all have a due respect for the rule of law and allow for it to take its course. After that, off with their heads!

Besides, there’s no harm in being prepared. We might be called upon to dispense large amounts of speedy justice in the near future, especially with all the traitors running around Capitol Hill these days (hi there, Devin Nunes). The guillotine would certainly qualify as a candidate for that job. It would spare us a lot of the waste associated with electrocutions or firing squads or gas chambers.

Besides being environmentally sound, multiple guillotine executions would surely serve as a deterrent as well. I do not, however, subscribe to the idea of placing all those severed heads on pikes along the National Mall. That is not who we are or who we want to become (though it would be a very efficient use of resources).

Still, I can understand why you might want to hang people for treason. It’s quick, it’s clean, and it just seems right. Unless hangin’s too good for ‘em, that is.

This essay will be the 300th Eaganblog. Another two years under the bridge, over the dam, and out to the open sea. As I have done at previous century marks, I will take this moment to reflect on the state of my blog.

I like that series of water metaphors in the first paragraph, especially with the last one being unlike the first two. That form is a classic set-up for a laugh or at the very least a little wrinkle in an otherwise flat stretch of prose. It may be a sin to over-use such forms, but it’s only a venial sin. Mortal sins like using too many modifiers are much more of a cause for concern, and all I can say is that I’m trying. More editing and better verbs are my way to salvation.

I try to avoid repeating anything, though. For instance, I’ve tried to keep things fresh by mixing in some doggerel and a few epigrams to go with all the classic five-paragraph essays. There’s nothing wrong with essays, I suppose. Most columnists never deviate from that format, and they manage to get their points across. But I am not bound by word counts or column inches. There is no reason to limit myself, so I’m always on the lookout for something new. An occasional palindrome, perhaps, or themed lists, or mini-fables. Or just one word, if it’s a good’n.

There is one kind of repetition, however, that I have fallen prey to over the last hundred weeks. I keep coming back to one particular category of subject matter, and I can’t seem to help myself. In case you haven’t noticed, there is a link on my blog archives that will take you to all my blogs in a particular category. [This one, for instance, will go into “Language,” even though that might be a stretch. “Writing” would be a better classification for this piece, but there are only eight choices currently available and that is not one of them.] If you hit that link and bother to look closely, you will find that the “Politics” group has grown alarmingly of late. My last reflective blog (#201, The Upside of Down) was listed under “Politics.” That essay, it appears, was a harbinger for what has been an explosion of blogs under that heading.

Even though I am a political cartoonist, I had tried to avoid writing too much on that topic. Eaganblog gives me a chance to talk about a lot of things that my cartoons never touch. I like that. There were only six “Politics” entries in the first year, for example, while my other writing roamed all over the place. Over the last twelve months, by contrast, I’ve produced twenty-one. I tell myself that we have entered a dangerous time in our domestic politics, and that the elevation of he-who-must-not-be-named requires that I step up and speak.

I try to resist that call, but it’s hard. I’ve got one bubbling up even now that is burning to get out and get heard. It’s better not to suppress such impulses, but I am concerned that “Politics” is now the second-biggest category in a feature I had hoped would be more about the broader world. I need to get back to such categories as “Sports,” which has a mere eight entries to its name. “Humor,” poor thing, only has four. As soon as we get rid of this guy, I hope to get back to Plan A. We’ll all be relieved when that day comes.

So I promise…as soon as the fever breaks and harmony begins returning to our world, I will give politics the rest it deserves. Until then, we will have to wait for explorations of such topics as the LIGO gravity wave detector, the play of Good vs. Evil in athletics, and why farts are funny. See what I did there?

I have friends who are members of the NRA. We don’t talk about guns very much because our views on the subject are strong and diametric. The specter of the latest slaughter of schoolchildren demands, however, that I address this essay to these good, law-abiding gun owners.

Let me start by saying that there is nothing inherently wrong with guns. The same goes for drugs or poison or TNT or transfats. There is also nothing inherently good about any of these things. We have to be careful with them, is all. Common sense should tell us, however, that the more catastrophic the misuse of these things can be, the more careful we have to be. I don’t think we need to outlaw unhealthy food, for instance, but I think it makes sense to say no to private ownership of, say, H-bombs. It’s a question of degree.

I’m okay with the Second Amendment and the right to bear arms. It’s right there the Constitution, after all. I do not, however, put that right on the same level with the rights to free speech, free press, or the freedom of religion. I think that these aspects of our humanity are inherently good. The history of human expression and personal conscience has been around for as long as we have. Firearms, on the other hand, are not fundamental to the human equation. They are simply one of many technologies our species has developed in the last few hundred years. The protection of one relatively new technology just doesn’t deserve the importance we give to rights that are innate to our nature as human beings.

That said, I am content with protecting your right to hunt. I’m okay with you arming yourselves as a defense against harm. These school shootings, however, are not acts of self-defense. They are large-scale attacks on children using weapons of war. That is wrong on its face. I don’t want to hear how much fun it is to shoot an AR-15 at a firing range. If we can trade that little bit of pleasure for a child’s life, we should take the deal.

I don’t want to take away guns, I want to take away the ability of moody loners to conduct large-scale slaughters at schools and other public places. The NRA, it seems to me, does not care about these shootings. Its believes that the Second Amendment represents a nearly absolute right — an honor that no other Constitutional right enjoys. True to its doctrine, the NRA has encouraged the proliferation of these weapons of war among ordinary citizens — with awful consequences.

If you are a member of the NRA and disagree with its position on this question, I am asking you to resign your membership in that organization. Now. Keep your guns, but please don’t fund a group that elevates them to a place of honor above the lives of children. Whatever the NRA may do to protect the right to bear arms under the Constitution, it also supports efforts that undermine our right to enjoy lives safe from this kind of atrocity. It is not a question of degree to them, but an obsession with firearms. That is not healthy for anyone.

So defund the warmongers. Abandon the NRA. I’ve got your back, I promise.